


Guten Morgen, Sie Wünschten Geweckt Zu Werden

by wilderness-child (Herodias)



Series: You Never Heard My Song Before, The Music Was Too Loud [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1971, 1981, Dancer, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Gay Bar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-22 23:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18537496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herodias/pseuds/wilderness-child
Summary: That was the thing about Freddie, he was like a drug; once you got a taste of him, you couldn’t live without him. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Brian didn’t care





	1. I Can't Live With It, I'm Gonna Die Without It

**1971**

 

Brian took a long sip of his drink, asking himself how did he end up in that situation. He was sitting at bar, looking all alone and miserable. Luckily, nobody had tried to approach him; he wouldn’t have known what to do in that case, he wasn’t used at being by himself in a gay bar. Especially since he was supposed to be a straight man. _“In theory”_ , a part of his mind added, before being quickly shoved back in his subconscious.  
  
He turned his head to the dance floor. Freddie was owning the scene in the same way he owned the stage during concerts. It was impossible not to stare at him and be mesmerised by his charisma. Brian wondered how did he do it, how did he manage to dance the way he did and force other people to dance around him exactly the way he wanted them to, like puppets around a puppeteer. That evening was a clear example: after rehearsal, he had literally dragged the guitarist to the nearest gay bar, which wasn’t unusual per se, but why he hadn’t dragged Roger and John as well was mystery. He was starting to feel abandoned, almost, lost in a world which wasn’t his. He took another sip; maybe he would actually enjoy himself if he could get drunk enough.  
  
He was so lost in thoughts that he hadn’t noticed right away Freddie had taken a seat next to him.  
  
“What are you doing here, moping, with those sad, cute puppy eyes? C’mon, have some fun, darling!”  
  
Brian felt a little uncomfortable. “This is not exactly my scene, you know. But don’t worry about me, go off and dance the night away.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll be soon heading home, anyway, if you don’t mind. It’s been a long day, I could use some sleep.”  
  
“Oh, don’t you dare! - he cried, grasping his arm - You are not going anywhere, love. You’re gonna have the time of your life tonight, I swear! Now come and dance with me, Maggie!”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. Freddie was clearly drunk, but he wouldn’t have though he was so pissed to mistake him for another person, let alone a woman. “Maggie?”  
  
“Yeah, as in Maggie May. It suits you better than Bri.”  
  
So he did recognise him. That was a relief.  
  
“Took it from Rod something new song. How is he called? Oh, doesn’t matter. _You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone. You stole my heart and that’s what really hurt.”_  
  
“It’s Rod Stewart” He knew it was no use trying to argue with him in his current condition, but he couldn’t help himself.  
_“Shut up for once, you stupid, self-centred, insufferable know-it-all”_  
“Actually, the name comes from an old Liverpudlian song. Maggie Mae is a whore who robs a sailor”  
  
“See? It’s perfect! - Freddie leaned dangerously close to him and whispered in his hear - You are my dirty little Mags, and you stole my heart”  
  
At first he frowned, but then he couldn’t help but giggle.  
“Cheesy. You are so drunk.”  
  
He straightened himself and spun his chair dramatically.  
“Touché, my dear.”  
He grabbed his friend’s wrist. “Come dance with me, Maggie.”  
  
Brian hesitated. The situation was taking a weird turn. Freddie has never flirted at him, at least not like this; the singer was flirty all the time, given he was comfortable enough, but calling him his slut was on a whole new level. And the worst thing was that he was enjoying it.  
  
“We… we should go home” _“Somewhere safe, before things go wrong.”_  
  
Freddie pressed his lips against his, unexpectedly and passionately. Brian froze in shock, quite literally. _“Shit.”_  
  
When the singer let him go, he laughed “Love, you are supposed to kiss back”  
  
All he could do was mutter “You’re pissed. I’m not taking advantage of you”  
  
“You would’ve kissed back if I wasn’t drunk?”  
  
“Of course not” Maybe. Probably. _“Definitely.”_  
  
Freddie looked disappointed. “That’s a shame”  
  
“You’re not my type”  
  
“Bullshit. I’m anyone’s type”. And with that he dragged Brian on the dance floor.  
  
The guitarist was unable to let the singer’s hand go, and he found himself not wanting to. That was the thing about Freddie, he was like a drug; once you got a taste of him, you couldn’t live without him. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Brian didn’t care. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he didn’t stop to overthink. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the atmosfere, but he suddenly didn’t give a damn about all of his worries. For just one night, he belonged to Freddie, and Freddie belonged to him, and that was all that mattered.


	2. I'm All Alone at the Party, I Don't Feel Alright

**1981**

 

Brian took a long sip of his drink, asking himself how did he end up in that situation. He was sitting at the bar, looking all alone and miserable. It was a deja vu, really; that very same scene - Brian moping at the bar and Freddie shining on the dance floor - had been repeating itself for so many nights over the course of ten years. Truth be told, it was kind of rare these days for the two of them to go out on their own. Certain things are bound to change with the passing of time, and their relationship wasn’t immune to it.  
Brian was feeling like they were drifting apart. Not just him and Freddie, but John and Roger too. There was far too much tension between the four of them, God knew for how long they would’ve been able to put up with each others. For a few months they’d been actively fighting all the time; now there was almost resignation, at least on Brian’s side. He had figured it was pointless to keep arguing, so the best he could do was to sit in a corner of the studio, waiting for someone to give him something to do, maybe out of pity. _“They don’t need you anymore, who needs a guitarist on a disco album? You should retire, you ridiculous old queen.”_  
That was probably the reason why Freddie had dragged him to a gay pub after rehearsal, to make him feel like he was still part of something, like in the old days. Unfortunately, it only made him feel like crap, like a burden, both in terms of bandship and of friendship.

He took another sip, trying to shut his damned brain up for the night; that seemed to require much more alcohol that he had intended to drink.  
The music was growing louder and louder, and all he could hear were Freddie’s sympathetic words from earlier. “C’mon, I’m sure it’ll help you to come up with a song. You haven’t written anything yet for the album”.  
_“Well, of course I haven’t, I’m a bloody rock ’n’ roll guitarist, Fred.”_ How do you write a disco song, anyway?

He turned his head to the dance floor. And there was Freddie, owning the scene, as usual. Certain things are bound to stay the same, and his enthralling personality sure was; in fact, his gravity had been growing stronger and stronger with the years and the fame, pulling more and more people closer, under his spell. He was a remarkable force of the nature.

_Dancer, dancer_  
_I can't believe you're dancing_  
_Dancer, dancer_  
_Can't take you home_  
_I can't take you dancing_

Now, that was good material for a disco song, provided he were able to remember it in the morning.

_It took me all night_  
_To get hold of the right introduction_  
_Blew me out of sight_  
_I taste your lipstick_  
_I look in your eyes_  
_You feel fantastic_  
_My body cries_

Alright, now it was going a bit too far. He abandoned the glass on the counter; if he was drunk enough to think about Freddie in those terms, it wasn’t a good idea to keep drinking.  
_“You don’t need alcohol to fantasise about him”_  
_“Shut the fuck up”_

“Got any ideas, Maggie dear?” Freddie had materialised by his side to cheer him up, as usual.  
_“Yeah, but not the kind you had in mind”_  
“Yeah. Got a couple of lyrics, actually.”  
“That’s great! We gotta celebrate, then. Come dance with me.”

Brian’s head started spinning, as he was hit by the reality around him. He was a supposedly straight man in his thirties, and he was married and he had two kids and he was in a gay pub with his best friend, who happened to be a gay man with which he had shared a couple or more kisses in the last ten years. Playful, platonic kisses, but the line was blurred and Brian feared they had crossed it far too many times. Or maybe it was all in his head; of course it was.

“Maggie? Bri? Brimi?” A gentle hand was shaking his shoulder. “What’s wrong, darling?”  
He stared at Freddie’s eyes, so full of kindness and affection.  
“Nothing” He managed to answer.  
“You sure?”  
“Pretty much, yeah” _“Not at all”_  
Reassured, he smiled as he grabbed his arm. “Then let’s dance, my Mags!”

Brian let him drag him to the dance floor and, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he didn’t stop to overthink.  
Once again, for just one night, he belonged to Freddie, and Freddie belonged to him, and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this chapter in half an hour, to be fair. I'm not satisfied with the outcome at all, but I don't have time to be my usual perfectionist self (you know, university life). I wanted to end this story now, or else I'm not sure if I'll ever complete it. So, there you go.  
> Hope you enjoyed it all the same!
> 
> Lots of love,  
> Rodya

**Author's Note:**

> This one's based on "Dancer", which might become more obvious in the next chapter, in case it wasn't enough obvious in this one.  
> By the way, the title is from the song; you know, that bit towards the end of it, the whisper in German. It translates to "Good morning, this is your wake-up call" (or so I'm told, I can't speak German), which is hilarious as a title for a gay-awakening story, isn't it?  
> Thanks for reading, kudos and comments are really, really appreciated!  
> Lots of love,  
> Rodya


End file.
